


Priest or Witch-Doctor Needed

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: The Lone Ranger (2013)
Genre: Awkward situations, Biracial Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, JohnReid!Bottoms, M/M, Male Slash, Native American Character, Resolved Sexual Tension, Tonto!Dom, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:30:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As requested Weeks AGO by Queenofshire405, I am to write a wedding-fic for Tonto & John Reid.<br/>2 Part Fic<br/>*Tags are for further chapters*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priest or Witch-Doctor Needed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reader4books](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reader4books/gifts).



> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE  
> enjoy~!

Tonto lay on a ruffled maroon spring mattress, his weight making the springs creak as he turned to face John who lay in a separate bed, his blue eyes closed and breathing calmly, he stood up and rubbed his face, feeling the skin of a stranger as his hands passed over the unpainted panes which he had once diligently covered with the pigment of finely ground crushed herb and cedar oils. He looked to the crow perched atop a risqué painting just above John’s bed, drawn to the image below the erotic work of art Tonto dimmed the yellow lamp on the stand to a faint glow and uncovered the upper half of John’s body. The scent of sacred herbs burning on the stove sated the injured ranger as much as possible, John slept unawares while the bruises on his body were observed, careful fingers brushing sweat off his skin and cleansed him with water drippings from soaked leaves, roots and dried blooms. 

A bundle of spare sheets lay in a pile, reaching for one, he dipped the cloth into the basin of fragrant water, his fingers and cloth emerging soaked, wet leaves clinging as roots lay at the bottom of the cracked white enamel basin. John shivered at the touch of Tonto’s fingers clutching the cloth to his bruises, a cool which first dampened his skin and a warmth of the palm sweeping over his skin calmed him, a deep sigh no longer able to hold itself from behind his slightly opened lips. The ranger’s body twisted in search of Tonto’s light touch, his aching skin craving to have the painful throb once again soothed away, his ears picking up faint sounds of Tonto’s voice shaping without words unknown to him a chant, a prayer of wellness to beseech to an all powerful being he had not a name for. 

Noises of giggling women, of laughing drunkards and the banging of the upright piano were drowned out to John: Tonto’s breathing, his hot palms and the prepared herbs, his soft voice gently nudging the ranger away from the wounds’ smarting sting existed upon the shared present they both occupied. 

Tonto massaged the bruises, his fingers slowly edging toward the bullet wounds in John’s lower right ribcage and left thigh, he made sure not to twist any muscle nor attempt to reach into the broken flesh, he instead concentrated, trusting his body to the being in the world above his own to save his friend. The last thought gave him pause only for the second his mind was occupied by an idea other than saving his partner, he closed his eyes in the dimness, the shadows overtaking John’s sleeping form, alas the world became quiet, the stillness expanding unto forever, nothingness turning into a knowledge, a much-needed while he had before he let his mind wander and possibly damage John more than was already done. 

The vibrating floorboards and rhythmic stomping of the girls’ heels came back, as did John’s consciousness, he blinked at first, his voice raspy as he saw Tonto’s shadowed form holding his fists above his body, “Tonto?” 

“Lucky Spirit-Walker,” Tonto answered, he opened both palms turned upright, two bloody slugs shone in the weak yellow light, he threw both objects out the open window and took his place next to John, “Take care next time.” 

John gulped weakly at the fingers tracing over his two nearly closed wounds, the first instinct told him to say thank you like a well-bred man, the other infected by Tonto’s stoic nature screamed for him to claim what had been stolen from him since the hours before, the evening preceding the current night when his heart was taken from his chest and awaited an answer from Tonto. Bones heavy and muscles weak, the ranger attempted to sit up, Tonto quickly hooked an arm under his shoulders, the other around his waist, John lay against the headboard atop Tonto’s arms, and he lay so close in his partner’s gentle grip. Aware of the heat on his cheeks which only made Tonto’s eyes widen just slightly. Maybe out of surprise? Out of disgust? Possibly from desire? Amusement? 

John had no idea, he rather would not tempt fate nor his luck in finding out which made the tiniest of reactions possible, yet he was in so much pain to find out, to see if there were a light at the end of this endless tunnel he seemed to be lost in with Tonto at his side. His skin heated, his chest felt both full and light, his blood seemed as if to rush to his cheeks and throughout his entire body until he sat completely flushed from head to toe, his body numb to the agony he once retained. There was the notion of whether Tonto had ever been in love or if he was drawn to a certain person, the torture of both not knowing and already positively predicting the answer was the greatest of his anguish. John instead laid his forehead against his tracker’s jawbone and licked his lips to whet the yearning tingle he felt beneath his skin, too tired and his heart too weak in his pursuit of an already-clear answer. 

Surely Tonto had many admirers, the dangerous and chivalrous qualities about the strange man was a definite trait which drew more than the occasional woman of ill repute. John could not at all say if Tonto even Knew how to buy a woman for the sole purpose of pleasure, since it was already spoken that most or all tribes considered doing so a taboo. Was the notion for falling in unrequited lust with a ‘white-skinned demon’ under the same category as such? But the ranger was no fool after seeing yankee schools with children despised by society, sometimes the story being that their birth came to sired by a winsome brave or their mothers having been stolen and married to the chief’s eldest son, the stories went on and on. Tonto was a mystery at best. 

John at first decided to pretend-faint, afterwards ask if the crow had seeds, but finally pushed all cowardice aside to do what better judgment required of him, “Thank you.” 

John found himself a little awkward and rude to demand or even steal an unsolicited kiss from his partner; a mental scolding was in order. 

Alas growing accustomed to the thought of preserving his friendship through ignoring his longing, Tonto took John by his nape and tilted the man’s chin upward, his brown eyes sad but betraying his joyfully tender expression behind the long wisps of black hair, the tracker only spoke triumphantly, his tone low and free of vanity, “Don’t ever - Ever take journey without me, Kee-Mo-Sabe.” 

“Not without me,” Tonto heaved his companion close, his body bowed over the injured man, he felt himself so close to tears due to the fact that everyone he seemed to know died, especially one who became more than a blood brother, he kept his voice strong as he declared quietly, “Will always find you. Will always bring you back, Kee-Mo-Sabe.” 

The tiniest waves of relief swept over John, like the soothing touch to his cheek, a few deft fingers ghosting along his skin as the soft sensation of Tonto’s lower lip stayed set gently over his upper lip, and he gasped, his mind unable to believe the telltale beginning of a kiss. The weakness in his body refused to allow him to take initiative and change their touch into a answer to Tonto’s questioning hint of warmth, he instead clung with all his might to remember every detail of this moment, his strength-sapped hands attempting to grip Tonto’s arms, his lips only lightly closing over the tracker’s lower lip in farewell to the dream he would tomorrow wake from. John’s form melted into gravity’s pull, his eyes no longer able to fight against the delicious caress of his friend’s gestures. 

Sleep came unwanted, the sun rose from the east that cold mid-spring morning and John’s health along with Tonto’s need to ride away from Red’s bordello. Shadows of the earth came hardly alit before the tracker hurried himself and John away from the house of empty pockets and full breeches, on they rode to a town famed by it’s Pony Express route. Gray and scrub-colored penny lizards skittered over flat stones upon their trail, rattlers and harmless corn snakes hissed from under yellow brush and thick foliage of wild blue sage pluming straight up from the soft red grains of earth, sand rolling beneath the darker soils while the wind seemed as if to funnel a whispering echo through the canyons. 

For the first time since their meeting, John wholeheartedly leaned his body into Tonto, his arms slightly dangling as the tracker kept a woven belt sash tied over their buckles, Tonto smiled every once in a moment after hearing John’s relieved sighs against his shoulder and at the memory of their all too brief evening. As the town came into view, Tonto held tight to John’s lax hands, townsfolk stopped, pointed, stared, whispered of the two men riding a white horse, one White with a mask, the other a savage with his head held high and jaws unmoving, almost proud if anyone saw the tiny smile on his lips. 

When John came to, he found himself on his back with gentle fingers dabbing away the noontime sweat collected on his neck, a damp cloth draped over his forehead and a hand lightly tracing his hairline, his vision slowly focused on the tracker perched above him and face soft with concern, John had to touch just to see if he was at all dreaming. The slight motions of his fingers tracing the lips and chin had Tonto smiling, John drew back and quickly mumbled what his raspy voice would allow in a rush, “Tonto- I should apologize for what happened last night. I wasn’t all there and I’m sorry if I’ve offended-” 

Tonto stole the rest of John’s words from his chest and the tip of his lips as they inevitably drew close, the tracker dove headlong, their lips enclosed upon the other, one so mild and tender until John found the strength within himself to lean up and into the taste of mashed juniper berries and the tiniest bite of teeth against his lips, John opened himself a little wider as he swallowed what little fear he had left in facing the world. Tonto hummed appreciatively, not because the popular belief of his people not accustomed to kissing, which was partially true, he inhaled the breath of his partner, his lungs seeming as if to flutter as the flavor of John’s favorite foods made him smile: dried jerky and berry cake, all of which Tonto made for his partner when they were more than three days from the Comanche camp. 

Tonto made his mind up then, he came upon one knee and took John’s hands into his, “Marry.” 

Untrue to popular belief that a ‘savage’ forcefully took white brides against their will, this was truly an strange gesture which Tonto was making: Formally asking the bride-to-be of a courtship, since said-consenting brides were married on the spot by way of word than ceremonial pomp. 

“I don’t know what to say…” John paused, his mind trying to catch up with what Tonto’s hands were already doing, taking from his own wrist a silver concho inset with a leather band and fastening the ends to John’s right wrist, finally the meaning dawning on John, he began to lay out half-made plans, “Should I invite my family? Should I get together a priest? A padre? A judge? A witchdoctor? And about the suit-” 

Unbeknownst to John, Tonto retreated to the door asking for the made infamous Madame Red to look after John while he was away on ‘urgent business’, she nodded while leaning up against the doorframe and watching John talk on about the affairs at hand. 

“-there should be a reception. And celebration-” the ranger counted off on his fingers alas asking his groom a question worth answering, “What about invitations, Tonto?” 

“Will be back soon,” Tonto poked his head in only to give the ‘what ever suits you’-wave as he merrily whistled his way out of Red’s Bordello, “Be ready.” 

The next few days were filled with butterflies in John’s stomach, air in his steps and fireworks in his heart going off at every thought he had of the wedding between his groom Tonto and himself, he wondered then when he had started thinking of himself as the Bride, he murmured after his days spent recuperating were left quiet and he thought some of his suit for the ceremony, “Such a silly thing to refer to myself as.” 

The world suddenly seemed awake as he sat in bed with Madame Red at his side once in a while saying as she gave him cups of medicinal tea, “That man must be outta his mind to love you, lawman.” 

John was easily seated on the bed, his wounds almost healed but still retaining the slight bruises if he pressed too hard on the areas, he sipped the hot herbal mixture as he again asked her the question they had both dwelled on for the duration he was boarded in Red’s private rooms, “What makes you think so, Miss Harrington?” 

“A white man and a redskin, nothing never sounded so ridiculous as the flying pig circus,” she easily said in her sure-to-the-fact-manner all the while brushing her hair and redoing her ginger curls to the perfect height atop her crown, “I’m sure he ain’t the very first person you’ve had eyes for, anyone even blind can reckon you’ve got the late ranger Reid’s widow. She’s the pretty sort. The easily hurt-kind.” 

John hated this part of their talk: the direction of him telling his brother’s widow and sealing his fate as a dead ranger killed by a ranch woman, he peeked from the cup to Red whom was currently awaiting his reply in her womanly manner not yet extinguished by her deviant profession, her eyes prompted him to answer and her leg pointed his direction pressed for the truth, he felt less threatened of Red than Rebecca’s anger, “Telling Rebecca of the wedding will only make her see my brother’s ghost sooner.” 

“Is giving her false hope what you want for her, lawman?” Red pursed her lip as she smoothed out her skirts and continued on her candid way explaining her thoughts, “She’ll be old and dead before she ever sees you again, and only swine would let a poor thing like her wonder all her years what is wrong with her to turn a good man away.” 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t keep her in the dark,” John set his empty cup aside, finally deciding to Think rather than talk Around the subject of inevitably Telling Rebecca of the marriage, he felt the dark cloud hanging over the day to happen, but resolved that tipping off Rebecca was for the best, “Maybe I can tell Rebecca indirectly, kind of talk a bit of sense while letting her down gently to decide what she makes of the entire matter.” 

“Just don’t mention you’re marrying a Man, she’ll doubt herself and take up arms before marching through the affair,” Red then unbuckled her ivory leg and handed John the barrel end as she began to polish the smooth limb to perfection as her rouged lips lifted in a grin, while they alas came upon an agreement. 

“Acting unladylike isn’t at all in Rebecca’s nature,” John answered, feeling an odd absence of lust as he held the prosthetic limb in his hands while Red continued to dab and buffer gently, “But she will try and make light of the situation, I think.” 

The girls of Red’s never slept being that they took many naps during the day to remain awake far into the night, John slowly grew accustomed to the singing, tapping, laughing, and obvious state of the oldest profession in other rooms below Red’s where he stayed. By candle, he sat at her desk with a borrowed quill and paper, a stack of lists at his side and another stack of hand-written invitations on the other, he was writing out his last invitation and he was suddenly hit by doubt, his fingers hesitating to pen out simple sentences, and his mind refusing to step away from the past they had shared as near-lovers. He cursed himself, head in hand and the fresh page wordless, John wished now more than ever to be encouraged by Tonto’s presence to make everything clear to Rebecca of his finding an unlikely half of himself, yet he knew this was a struggle against the memories he had to try alone to fully get over Rebecca. He haltingly began: 

Dearest Rebecca…

John paused, his finger wrapped around the pen as he wondered to himself when Had he stopped pursuing Rebecca Reid; the very first signs he felt that he could live without his first love was the moment Tonto showed him a sign of friendship. So small was the gesture just two weeks after Tonto and himself’s all-too-platonic-alliance, but understanding how not only water and food being natural sources of living were hard to come by, he was even more surprised by the fact that both were prepared already by the time they headed back to camp on their first day as riding partners. It was such a short and instantaneous memory, yet he remembered every detail down to the Almost-kiss they had before being interrupted by a mouse running up John’s night clothing, he slammed his head against the desk in embarrassment as he remembered nearly falling out of the teepee. 

Our time together, though short, was one of the greatest times of my life…

He balled up the page, feeling as if he were writing to a corpse or an epitaph for a tombstone, the thought revolted him as he pulled out a new page and started fresh: 

Dear Rebecca, 

We both can’t lie for Danny’s sake…

He threw the next on into the flaming stove and again thought for a moment, thinking twice before putting his pen to the page: 

Dear Rebecca, 

You have taught me what it is to love someone with all my heart and to let go. I admit not being able to live day to day, and the thought of Dan taking care of you and Danny made everything better, you had the best man named Reid to have your hand and he in return gave you all he had to give. 

The one person I was meant for found me in all ways unmarriageable, and yet still pursued to be at my side. 

Please come to our wedding. 

\- Yours Truly, John Reid

The invitation was simple, short and to the point in case Rebecca wanted to skip the bells and whistles reading two pages of flowery language, there was also the lack of gently saying ‘I’m not attracted to you anymore’. And a few many things a woman can take - unreturned love? Sure, she can manage. Inability to father? Maybe. Said-first-love marrying a man? John shook his head of the disaster to impede, but once she saw to Whom he was giving himself to, she could in the least understand and perhaps - just Maybe give their marriage her blessings for the long road ahead. He decided to forget wishful thinking for the present time being until the calamity came and it was time to really panic. Rebecca coming to the wedding was an unavoidable disaster ready to happen, he was sure of it. 

Days turned into a week, nights became warmer and John was sure his invitations were now distributed to the many maybe-surprised public, some of the girls of the establishment now hung from the windows dreamily of the wedding, giggling of things that made John blush as he heard through the walls of his and Tonto’s wedding night. They spoke openly of sex: touching what with where, kissing and licking forbidden places, and putting a certain organ in a certain body part, John was suddenly bothered by an absent man doing who-knows-what to him while saying racy little English phrases. Gods and Deities unknown! John’s hand suddenly reached down only to be slapped away by Red, she mumbled something close to ‘Quit pawing at it or I’ll have you tussled in a chastity belt’, he stood straighter atop the raised platform with his hands at his sides as the girls with the best sewing fingers fitted the ranger into a white satin vest and a white velvet tailcoat, all which were surprisingly tasteful in elongating his already impressive stature, pins stuck to the unstitched ends while gray chalk outlined the slim fit of his suit. 

“I’m confused how we’re going about making this suit all fancy when Tonto’ll rip it off at the sight of John.” John blushed and squirmed uncomfortably at the mention of the suit laying ruined while he stood, kneeled, or lay spread naked for his groom-to-be, brown eyes raking hungrily over his body and alas diving towards him…

“Oh, John-” he glanced down to the voice at the floor, a rouged smile parted to giggle out to him, “-tell the mister down here to relax.” 

“Stop it, John! We are civilized!” he cursed quietly under his breath as he slapped a palm over his head, the ladies about him tittering like a lady does when told a joke, “This is the Fifth time today.” 

“Fancy seeing him awake earlier than usual,” Red’s monotone voice carried over the kneeling and bustling forms beneath John, she hobbled towards the low table which held a rubber-stopped bottle of spirits and a jarful of pins, “You’re stretching out your trousers, lawman, you best keep your pistol holstered before it goes off. We don’t want any accidents on the eve of your betrothal.” 

“And I suppose we have a Better suggestion for making me at ease, do we?” John’s cheeks again flared as he marched down from the pedestal stiff-legged and leaned forward to relieve some of the pressure against his Peculiar areas. 

“Ladies,” Red caught the attention of her girls, she nodded to the door and hobbled out behind the gaggle filing out to the main stage, “The lawman wishes to be alone-” 

“Ah-” she came back in as an afterthought and warned playfully, “-Take off the suit before it gets ruined, my girls’d kill you for destroying all their hard work. It ain’t like any of these girls’re ever gonna see a wedding again, especially one of strange circumstances.” 

“I’d sooner cancan in spurs,” John replied while taking off the clothing until he stood in his under britches and shirt, Red tutted with a grin and swished her crimson skirt tail out to close the door and leave the ranger in peace. 

Alone at last with his thoughts, John released the breath he had been gagging on since the day Tonto had left him in the Bordello alone, his feet felt like lead dragging against the worn floorboards, his arms swimming and head thrown on backwards, everything seemed in perfect pace and yet too slow for his liking to hold and be held by the absent groom. Deliberate impatience was the main enemy at the point where John lacked Waiting for the good to come out of the strange arrangement he had knowingly made, yet in it he knew in the moment he shared only for himself he would never be allowed the comfort of peace, thought boring was predictable, but he understood he had the will to follow the chaos along Tonto’s path. He had the strength and the courage to ‘keep on keeping on’, and what he left behind was a past which hurt the only people he cared for: Rebecca and Danny, sooner and equally Tonto. Suddenly, John found he could not calm himself down from the anticipation of belonging to and having for himself the peculiar man who fed a flightless crow, he Wanted that maddening fellow Now. 

“Tonto,” John leaned over the windowsill as he had seen for the longest time and peered into the boundless sky glaring the brightest and most true pale blue he had ever seen, “When are we getting married?” 

TBC~!

**Author's Note:**

> there is a Second part, but I decided to post while I was halfway through with the smut :3 & I was a little squeamish due to my Strong views against Natives in pornography...for the sake of friendship, I did it :3  
> enjoy the second part when it's posted~!


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